


The Smell Of Coffee In My Lungs (Flowers Too)

by Hopefulwriter



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barista Felix, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Pining, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 18:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopefulwriter/pseuds/Hopefulwriter
Summary: It had been a cold winter's morning when Jack had come across ‘Succulent Treats Cafe,’ with its large windows showcasing the cosy interior, people enjoying their drinks and cakes from the comfort of chairs and couches. It turns out to be the best and worst finding of his life.





	The Smell Of Coffee In My Lungs (Flowers Too)

**Author's Note:**

> This has been a little while in the making, and that might be because its the longest thing I've ever written, and at the same time also one of my favorites that I've written too. 
> 
>  
> 
> And I hope you like it too and if you do don't forget to let me know what you think!
> 
>  
> 
> The Gardenia is also part of the coffee family, which i found out after i already chose it for its other meaning of unrequited love, so its a perfect fit for this i think!

~

 

 

It had been a cold winter's morning when Jack had come across ‘Succulent Treats Cafe,’ with its large windows showcasing the cosy interior, people enjoying their drinks and cakes from the comfort of chairs and couches. He had been thoroughly enticed, and thought what the hell, he could enjoy an expensive coffee with the added bonus of getting out of the cold. 

The bell above the door twinkled to announce his entrance, the cold gusting in closely on his heels before the door closed. He rubs his gloved hands together, trying to warm them, and approaches the counter. There appears to be no one there, so he decides to take his beanie off while he waits, slipping it into his messenger bag. “I’ll be out in a minute!” A voice calls, obviously the barista, from what Jack guesses is a back room.

“Yeah, s’no problem, take your time!” Jack hopes that doesn't come across sarcastic, because that really isn't what he's going for. He takes the time to look over the place, from the simplistic art and unusual figurines dotted around to the succulents and other plants carefully placed in the space. It’s like looking in on the owner's personal style, and Jack honestly loves it. The music is calming, the chilled beat of it fitting the place nicely.

It takes a while, but Jack can hear footsteps approaching. The barista emerges from behind a curtain, the thin material fluttering back into place. The guys warm blinding smile catches Jack's eye. “What can i getcha?” He asks, his grey blue eyes inviting and warming Jack from the inside out. There's flour on his apron, the white powder making a mess of it, and even thats endearing to Jack.

“I uh- do you have, like, an espresso?” He asks, just picking the first thing that comes into his head.

“Sure do, take a seat and it’ll be with you shortly. Could i have your name?” The guy asks.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s Jack,” he says, hoping that the guy won't mess up on the spelling like Starbucks does.

The guy writes the name on a slip of paper, then slides it over to the coffee machine, then turns to him once again. “Thanks for that, it just helps me keep track of things, wouldn't wanna lose your order,” he smiles, brushing a hand through his perfectly tousled hair.

Jack laughs, before the guys name tag catches his eye for the first time. Felix, it reads, and Jack will definitely remember that. “That’d be the worst,” Jack agrees. “I need my dirty beans.”

Felix snorts at that, fiddling with the coffee machine and placing a white cup under it.  
“Anyway, I’m gonna go sit,” Jack says, not wanting to stick around lest he say something stupid. Felix gives him a nod, and he goes over to a plush grey sofa, sinking into it with a sigh. He smiles at a plant with stringy green leaves overflowing over the sides of its pot, the little guy making the table feel homey. 

Jack pockets his gloves and gets out his phone as a distraction from Felix, not wanting to be creepy and stare at him. Though he can't help but notice the dark tattoos along his arms as he prepares drinks, his short sleeves showing them off nicely. Jack guiltily refrains himself from looking anymore and resumes his attention on his Twitter feed.

“Jack?” Felix calls a short while later, while Jack is lost in the digital wilderness of dogs.

Jack hops up, pocketing his phone, and walks over to the counter. Felix gives him that smile again, and slides his drink over to him. “That’ll be £2.00 please,” he requests, punching the price into the cash register.

Jack gets his wallet out of his pocket and digs around for the coins he needs, finding the round object he desires shortly. He hands them over to the other man, their fingers touching for a split second, and Jack takes his drink so that he can try to forget about the softness of them. The till dings and Felix pulls out his receipt with a flourish, handing him the paper. “Enjoy,” he smiles.

Jack nods awkwardly, not knowing what to say or not trusting himself to not cause embarrassment with his reply. He wanders back over to his table, putting his drink down on the hardwood and taking his jacket off and bag off of his shoulder, setting them both beside him. He heaves a quiet sigh, his feet bouncing in a movement he picked up years ago after his time with drums, the familiar tapping grounding him and helping him focus. He takes the drink in his hands, wrapping them around the cup to warm them. He blows the frothy caffeine, a pattern on the top made of powdered sugar in the shape of a cacti warping slightly. He takes a careful sip, the heat just about right, and hums, his eyes closing at the taste despite the froth in his moustache. He licks his lips, savouring the taste, before he takes another sip. He refrains himself from drinking it all at once, and places it back on the table. 

He spends a while there, in that spot just enjoying the sounds of clinking cups and music and chatter, feeling like he's in a bubble from the rest of the world, the atmosphere a break from normality. 

He’s almost reluctant to leave, to go back to the hustle and bustle beyond the pastel coloured door. But he has things to do, he’s spent too long out already, he's got to get home. He gets his things together and picks up his drink, taking it to the counter to save Felix getting it. “See ya,” Jack says, Felix looking at him from where he's cleaning the coffee machine. 

“Yeah, see ya, thanks for dropping in,” Felix smiles. Jack gives one in return then opens the door to leave, that biting cold nipping at his skin again and he slips his gloves on in return. The bell jingles behind him, the sound following him as he sets off back to his flat. He knows with certainty that he’ll be back to his new favorite place, and hopefully soon.

 

It’s spring when he finds himself at the coffee shop again. He had wanted to come sooner, but he hadn’t been able to get chance, recording had taken over and there wasn’t much he could do about it. The cold had moved on a bit since last time, hiding away until the next time it will be needed, so he's able to forgo the gloves this time. 

As he gets closer he finds himself itching for a smoke, his fingers rubbing together to emulate the sensation of the tobacco stick. It isn't something he's proud of, definitely not, but this was another thing like with the drumming that he had picked up from college and hadn’t been able to rid himself of. Not that he hadn’t tried of course, but every nicotine spray or chew did nothing for him, the items not even helping the cravings. Once outside of the cafe he takes a cig out of his pocket, slotting it between his fingers and lighting it with a green lighter. He puts it to his lips and takes an inhale, closing his eyes as he breathes out, making smoke create patterns in the air, the need sated for now. He takes it away again, flicking the ash off the end. 

He spends a while there, the sigarette burned down to half way when the bells he remembers twinkling jauntily as someone comes or goes. “Not a very healthy habit,” a voice he loosely remembers as Felix states.

Jack turns to him, taking another drag just for the sheer hell of it. “Nah, i know, but the Irish aren’t known for their healthy habits are they?”

Felix huffs. “I guess you're right, i just didn't didn't peg you for a smoker, fit as you seem to be.”

“But then you don't know how much pizza i eat on a regular basis, do ya?” Jack points out, feeling more comfortable with the man than he was last time. “What are you even doin’ out here anyway?”

“Can i not come out to see who’s smoking outside my cafe?” 

Jacks eyes widen at the realisation. “Sorry! God, I’m- thats so rude of me,” He flounders.

Felix chuckles. “Nah, don't worry, i was joking, you’re free to smoke anywhere you like out here, as long as you don't do it inside.”

Jack takes a breath. “Don’t do that to me,” he warns jokingly, taking a last drag from his sig, exhaling the smoke into the air, then drops it, crushing the butt under his foot.

“You coming in?” Felix checks.

“Yeah, i was just cravin’ a smoke.” Jack follows Felix inside, the smells of caffeine and sweet stuffs surrounding him as they pass through the door. There aren’t as many people as last time, Jack notices as Felix makes his way behind the counter, but it's still the same in every other way.

“What can i get you this time Jack?” Felix asks him. 

He remembers my name, Jack thinks, surprised that the man would remember him among all the other names that he must take. Jack has the mind to check the board this time, looking it over for something that takes his fancy. “Could i have the, uh, vanilla latte please?” He asks, then decides to treat himself. “And a chocolate muffin too.”

“Good choice, one of my favourites too,” Felix smiles, getting the cake from under the glass fronted counter, placing it on a plate over by the coffee machine. “You can go take a seat and I’ll call you up when it's done.”

“Thanks Felix,” Jack says, walking back to the same comfy sofa that he had been in last time, the plush cushions sinking with his weight as he settles into it. He takes out his phone, taking the time to browse Tumblr and reblog some art, the talent of his community never failing to make him smile with each imaginative piece.

“Jack,” Felix calls to him. Jack gets up, striding over to the counter, his order set out on the clean surface. “That’ll be £3.50, please.” He punches the numbers into the till.

Jack gets out his wallet, scooping the required amount out and handing it to the other, their hands touching still makes Jack feel that strange type of way as the last time. “Hope you like it,” Felix says, the till pinging open so he can put the coins into their compartments.

“I’m sure i will,” Jack smiles, taking a plate in each hand, the muffin wobbling slightly at the handling, and gets back to his table to enjoy his treats. He places them tenderly on the table, giving the stringy plant some company for a second as he slumps back into position among the cushions.

He takes the muffin plate back into his hand, eager to devour the spongy cake. He peels back the muffin case, and takes a bite, some crumbs landing on his shirt which is insignificant in comparison to the pure chocolate goodness blessing his taste buds. He moans, probably make the others in the cafe look at him strangely, but he honestly couldn't care less. He hears a laugh from over at the counter, and he blushes. “That good huh?” Felix chuckles, dusting his apron off, trying to rid it of the almost permanent sprinkle of flour it always seems to have.

“Yeah, its uh- a bit too good, like that might be the best muffin i've ever had,” Jack responds, making sure to swallow before he speaks.

“I aim to please,” Felix smugly tells him, before getting back to work.

Jack wasn’t lying when he said it might be the best, and after he's had the next bite he decides it definitely holds the crown, deserving of it. He's kind of suspicious that Felix could make such delicious things without the aid of some form of witchcraft, and he hasn’t even tried the latte yet.

The latte is mindblowing, he’s pleased to report, the vanilla perfectly sweet without overdoing it, the coffee just as nice as he remembered it and the muffin the perfect partner for it. It had a little rice paper thing on top too, a little succulent this time, and he mourned its short life as it dissolved. 

He spends some more time there, sinking into the couch, not a crumb left of his muffin and his latte drained, the chilled music calming him all the way down to his bones. He takes his things up to the counter again when he has to leave, vowing to himself that it won't take as long to come back. “See ya later Felix.”

“Yeah, see ya buddy.” 

The bell twinkles as he opens the door, the familiar sound mixed with the warmth that has bloomed in his heart over this place, Felix in particular.

 

He returns the following week, same day as the last. It’s a blowy day, his hair and clothes ruffled by the breeze as he walks the path back to the cafe. He's wearing a jacket, not having expected the weather, his messenger bag over his shoulder, enamel pins adorning it as usual. What isn't usual is the slight tickle in his throat, he feels like he must be getting a cold, though it’s unusual for him, not normally one to catch a virus or bug when the season comes. He just puts it down to smoking, not surprised that it would affect him sooner or later, it's just irritating that it happened this soon.

The bell announces his arrival and Felix smiles when he sees him. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon,” he grins.

“You can't keep me away from your coffees and cakes,” Jack says, as if that's the only thing he comes here for. 

Felix chuckles. “You sure that's the only thing?” He checks, more perceptive than Jack gave him credit for. 

“Gotta make sure you're takin’ care of Gerald.”

Felix looks at him strangely, rightfully so. “Gerald?” He asks dubiously.

“The plant over on my normal table, we have a good relationship Gerald and i,” Jack says, his face completely serious, not giving a hint of the smile that is threatening to spread across his lips.

Felix bursts into laughter, probably startling some of his patrons. Jack breaks into a grin at the sound. “I’m glad he's made a friend,” Felix snorts.

“He's actually quite talkative, good for a laugh,” he snickers.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Felix chuckles, trying to school his expression back into some form of professionalism. “Anyway, what can i get you?”

Jack takes a look at the board. “I think I’ll haavvve,” he drawls, trying to decide between two coffees that sound just as nice as each other. “The chocolate- no, caramel macchiato, please.”

“You want the muffin too?” Felix checks.

“Go on then, you’ve convinced me,” Jack says as if it was something he needed to be convinced on in the first place.

Felix huffs. “Didn’t take much, are my muffins just that good?”

“You have no idea,” Jack says, with a hint of suggestion, causing Felix to chuckle.

Felix strikes a pose, his hands on his hips, working it in his work get up, but he still does his best. The warmth in Jacks heart grows.

The coffee was good, great even, and the muffin was even better than last time, if that’s even possible. But Jack found himself focused on how he feels for Felix, because he definitely doesn't just like the man for his confections. The itching in his throat as he evaluates it all is persistent.

 

He doesn't return to the cafe for a couple weeks. He could put it down to work, and while that has been as time consuming as ever it doesn't affect his ability to go for a while. He's kind of been having a big gay crisis, which he hadn’t ever thought he'd have, being a straight guy, but he can’t deny the way he feels for Felix. He comes out of his self evaluation realising he’s bisexual, because Chris Pratt and Ryan Reynolds and Jason Momoa are more than just aesthetically pleasing. But the way he feels for Felix is more tangible than them, he actually knows the guy, so it gives the crush more weight, because it could be a possibility. And with that thought he comes to another, less fluttery realisation, the doubts creeping in, because Felix could have a girlfriend, or boyfriend, hell, he could be married with four kids for all Jack knows. And if he isn't or doesn't have a partner his sexuality could be non compatible, he might never want Jack within a 100 foot radius of him if he confessed. Okay that's a bit much, Jack can admit, but he might never want to see him again, and he can’t live with that, because Felix is the first person he's clicked with in the way they do for quite a while. So he needs to keep this to himself, just enjoy his company for what it is instead of what they could be.

He decides to get out of his head for a while by going to the cafe, shrugging on a jacket and leaving his flat before he can change his mind. 

He finds himself getting anxious the closer he gets, so he takes out a cigarette from its place in his pocket, just holding it in his fingers, debating whether he should or not. But he caves when he gets outside, the sight of Felix, looking as good as ever through the window making nerves scratch at his insides. He lights up the tobacco stick, taking a deep inhale past the tickle in his throat, and letting the smoke drift into the atmosphere on the exhale, the action distracting him from the music of the cafe and who’s inside slightly. 

He says there a while, looking at the clouds and the goings on of the street, his sig burned down as far as it is able, before he steels himself and goes inside. “Hey Jack, been a while, what's going on?” Felix greets.

“Yeah, sorry, i think I’m comin’ down with somethin,’ haven’t felt too good,” Jack excuses, his feet tapping an uneven rhythm on the linoleum.

“Sorry to hear that,” Felix frowns. “Hopefully one of my coffees or cakes will make you feel better.”

Jack huffs. “Hope so, throats ticklin’ somethin’ awful, nothin’ seems to help it,” he grumbles, the tickling affecting him even now, somehow worse since he came in.

“What can i getcha?” Felix smiles warmly.

“I think I’ll try the chocolate macchiato this time, if you please,” Jack smiles back, Felix's smile contagious despite the persistent itching in his throat.

“With the muffin?” 

“You know me so well,” Jack grins, then a cough comes, making him splutter into his hand.

Felix's mouth purses at the display, a concerned edge to his eyes. “You ought to quit smoking, that cough sounds bad,” he tells him, handing him a napkin.

Jack takes it gratefully, catching his breath. “I know, i know, don't worry ‘bout it,” he dismisses, wiping his mouth with the napkin.

“I just don't like it, with the risks from it, would hate it if something like that happened to you.”

The warmth in Jack grows a touch at the concern. “You would? We barely know each other.”

“I know, but i do care about you Jack,” Felix assures, looking him plain in the eye to further his point.

But not the same way i do. “Good to know, i do too,” Jack says instead, receiving a happy half smile in return. “Anyway, I’m gonna uh- go sit down.”

“Yeah, I’ll call you up in a bit.”

Jack retreats to his normal table, taking a breath as he unzips his jacket, sinking into the plush comfort of the couch. He watches Gerald, the leafy plant having grown a bit since he last saw him, and notices something on his pot. He leans forward and holds aside the leaves carefully, two black dots for eyes and a tiny smile drawn in what must be sharpie on the pastel blue pot, and a grin takes over Jack's face, knowing Felix must have put the markings on there. It makes him feel fuzzy deep down in his belly, imagining Felix drawing that for him to find.

“I saw what you did on Geralds pot,” Jack says to Felix after he’s been called up.

Felix chuckles. “Thought you would, i just wanted to give the little guy a makeover, used all my amazing artistic ability on that one.”

“I can tell, it's a masterpiece, you should be proud,” Jack grins, getting some money out of his wallet and handing it over to Felix.

Felix wipes an imaginary tear. “It’s my life’s work,” he says, fake choked up, putting the coins in the till then handing Jack his receipt. “I’m glad it’s being appreciated.”

Jack laughs, breaking the impromptu fake moment that Felix was having, making the other man break into a smile in return. “I’m gonna go have this, I’ll see you in a bit,” Jack says, scooping up the plates, looking forward to trying the coffee.

“No problem, go have a chat with Gerald,” Felix smiles, tongue-in-cheek.

A quiet laugh is startled out of Jack at that, walking over to his table, to Gerald’s leafy companionship.

 

He goes to the cafe a lot after that, over the course of a few months, and he looks forward to seeing Felix every week, sometimes twice a week, the man's presence in his life becoming a staple. He also gets to know him more, on a more personal level, their relationship growing into something Jack would be happy to call friends, always having a laugh or good time when he goes to the cafe to see him. So it isn't a surprise when Jack's feelings grow. No longer just a crush like it had been a while ago, it's something bigger that he can’t deny filling out the space instead, nestling there and stubbornly making itself known when they spend time together or Jack thinks of him, even fleetingly. It scares him, because he knows, no matter how strongly he feels, the chance of Felix returning it all is slim. 

The cough, along with the feelings, is a constant. And much like the feelings its got worse, causing him to hack into his hand multiple times a day, the tickling much more incessant, feeling like nails are scraping up his throat. His fans have noticed how often his voice cracks much more than usual, and longer sessions make his voice hoarse, feeling the strain the high energy recordings put on him. 

 

It’s a normal day when the first petal comes. He's caught up in a coughing session, when his breath catches and he can't breathe, making his eyes go wide, feeling like there's something caught there. He wheezes, and with one last hacking cough the obstruction clears, feeling something on his tongue as he catches his breath. His brows furrow and he reaches up to retrieve the strange intruder. It’s a white flower petal. It’s soft, waxy, and ruffled around an edge. Jack almost feels like he can’t breathe again at the sight of it, his mouth open a touch, feeling like he's almost in a dream, wishing it would fade away back into the recesses of his subconscious. But it isn't and he can’t, he's just coughed up a flower petal and there isn't anything he can do about it.

As with everything he turns to the internet, typing ‘coughing up petals’ into the search bar, wondering how he got into this situation. He scrolls a bit, past some articles that don’t pertain to what he's looking for, when he finds it. Hanahaki. It’s a medical research article, talking about this disease that has a person spitting petals. Its born from unrequited love, a physical manifestation of how much the feelings affect someone: deeply and with no restraint, getting deeper over time, much like Jacks have. Roots take hold deep in their lungs, taking over their airways as they grow, overcrowding the space and asphyxiating them by the end. It would be a horrible way to go, choking on your last breaths as flowers fill your body, and Jack hates that that could be his reality. The only cures known are to have the plants removed, taking the feelings with them, and Jack doesn't much like that one, it doesn’t sit right with him, he would hate to be without them, so he looks at the other option: ‘tell the person how you feel and hope it’s returned,’ and he can't have that one either. So he's fucked, with no way out, his only future being to get worse, for these flowers to eat him apart from the inside.

He just wants to curl up in bed after his findings, feeling exhausted inside and out. The flowers are taking their toll on him, because he must be at least a month into the diseases course already, without even realising it. He had read that it takes 5 months for it to kill someone once symptoms show, so he's only got about 4 months left, such a slim time for him to do anything, his existence dwindling away with each second he spends sitting there. But now that he's put on the spot it feels like everything has fallen away, any bucket list plan not seeming worthy of his short sum of time. All he wants is Felix, the man that could cure all of this with a click of his fingers. But he can’t put that on him, the burden of the truth, and the fact that he is unwittingly killing him.

 

He goes to the cafe the next week, all wrapped up in a jacket and a green Septic Sam adorned scarf a fan had given him at a meet and greet, looking slightly out of place in the good weather. The petals come with every cough, pooling in the light green fabric as he holds it to his mouth to catch them. As he gets outside of the cafe he takes the scarf off, shaking it and watching the petals flutter to the ground. He opens the door, the music and noise surrounding him. Felix smiles wide when he sees him. “Hey buddy, how are ya?”

Jack feels calm for the first time since he found out about Hanahaki. “Not bad, you?” Jack asks, finding his way to the counter and tapping quietly at the top.

“Yeah, normal, lots of customers, which is good, it's always nice seeing you though, among the random people that come through.”

“Awe, thank you,” Jack says bashfully, knowing there must be a flush to his cheeks.

Felix smiles crookedly. “No problem, so what takes your fancy today?”

“I’ll have- actually, could i have your favorite? I've tried most of everything I like so why not try the way you like?” Jack reasons.

Felix looks surprised for a second, but then seems pleased. “Sure, a Kjellberg special coming right up, go sit, I’ll bring it over.”

That’s a pleasant surprise, Felix never brings it over. Might give him some exercise, Jack thinks with a huff as he finds his way over to his usual table. “Not like he needs it though,” Jack says under his breath, the petals stubbornly deciding to make themselves known, because god forbid an interaction with Felix go smoothly. He heaves a hacking cough, spluttering past the petals in his throat, and of course Felix comes over as he's right in the middle of his coughing fit.

He places the things on the table quickly, then pats Jack on the back, trying to dislodge the constriction in his airways. Jack wheezes, the firm pats bringing the petals into his mouth, fluttering around his teeth and tongue as he gets his breath back. “Jesus Christ, you alright dude?” Felix asks him, concerned.

“Ugh, yeah,” Jack replies, his voice hoarse, swallowing thickly. “Thanks for bringing it over.”

Felix watches him carefully, then hands him the coffee in hopes of it helping with the cough. “Its black coffee, enjoy,” he says with a smirk.

Jack laughs at his basic taste, but thinks it fits him well in a strange way. He takes a sip, the familiar taste exploding across his tongue with an added hint of something alcoholic that warms his throat nicely, soothing it. “That’s actually pretty good, what alcohol did you use?” 

“Baileys and whisky. Thought you might like it you Irish alcoholic,” Felix jabs playfully, wandering off before Jack can reply.

When Felix is gone Jack takes the napkin from off of the saucer and spits the petals into it, the pure white stained with coffee, and another less expected thing: blood, the red sinking into the paper of the napkin. Jack screws it up and shoves it into his bag, not wanting to see the evidence of his deterioration, and instead takes a drink of the coffee, acting as if nothing had ever happened.

He gets home soon after, sinking into bed, feeling boneless and wanting to cry his eyes out, though he’s too exhausted to do anything other than sleep. He drifts away and dreams of a man made of flowers, who falls away at the slightest touch, parts of him drifting off into the wind, and though Jack tries he can’t put him back together again.

 

Jack gets worse, it’s inevitable and unavoidable but he still gets scared of how it's going to get worse, the blood he coughs up is going to occur more frequently, the trips to the bathroom that have him hacking into the toilet bowl are going to become his norm. He supposes he should get used to it, but it never seems to get easier to accept that it's his life being flushed down that toilet or in the petals that never seem to stop. Someone's probably getting a real kick out of this too, seeing him suffer and knowing he can go through with the alternative. 

 

Hes recording with Robin when he can barely breathe, can’t even cough as there's a big petal or something like it stuck in his throat. He vaguely registers his character dying and Robins panicked questions. His hand holds his throat uselessly, and he splutters, the something moving enough for him to hack and cough. There's a weight on his tongue as he manages to catch his breath, taking big lungfuls as his head spins. “Jack?! Jack! Are you okay?” Robin frantically asks him.

“Yeah, Rob.” He swallows, then plucks the soft thing out of his mouth, eyes widening at the sight of a fully formed flower head. He regains his composure enough to follow up with, “I’m- I’m fine.”

“What was that? What made you cough like that?” Robin asks him, not convinced one iota.

“It’s- its nothin’ I’m fine, let's just get back to it yeah?” Jack almost pleads.

Robins normally soft jaw hardens. “No, you're gonna tell me what that was, don't think I haven’t noticed the amount i've had to cut because you’ve coughed harder than just a mere ‘cold’ like you keep saying, a cold wouldn't last this long anyway.”

Jack sighs, deciding to just come out with it. “I've got- its a disease called Hanahaki, its rare, very rare, and I’m like, two or three months into a five month period.” Robins eyes widen, looking more scared than Jack has ever seen him. “I just coughed up this,” Jack shows him the delicate flower head. “I’m gonna die Rob.”

“God i thought-“ Robins face crumbles, tearing up much like Jack is at the sound of his fate said out loud. “My brother had this when we were younger, he got surgery so i never got to see him when he was bad, but what i did see wasn’t good, so i suspected, maybe, that you might too, but i never thought you actually would.”

Jack swallows thickly past the lump in his throat, the tears spilling over as he looks away from Robins doleful expression on his monitor. “I’m sorry,” Jack chokes out.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, you can’t help how you feel, I’m just- i can't imagine not seeing your dumb face every day,” Robin laughs tearfully, his voice thick and face red as tears spill down his cheeks.

“Fuckin’ Swedish meatball,” Jack huff's fondly, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

They both quiet down after a while, Robin breaking the silence with, “have you thought about getting the surgery?”

Jack swallows. “Yeah, but it just doesn't feel right ya’know? Like this is how i've felt about the guy from the start, so i don't know how I’d feel if the feelings were just gone.”

Robins brows raise in surprise. “So its a guy?”

Jack nods. “Yeah, i was surprised too, but it helped me realise I’m bi so, at least that’s something.”

“What does he do? What’s he like? How long have you known each other?” Robin asks, more like grills and it makes Jack laugh.

“Is this gonna turn into a sleepover where we do each other’s makeup and talk about boys?” He chuckles, Robin huffing in return. “He's a barista, makes some of the best coffees and cakes i've ever had, and he’s kind, friendly to everyone, always doing as much as he can even when the person might not want it, i've known him for like 4 months, and i know its kinda quick for me to feel this strongly but i've never known anyone like him, he's just lovely and he deserves the best in life, he doesn't need the guilt of all this on his shoulders.”

“But so do you, of course you do. So I’m guessing you haven’t told him?” Robin gives him a disapproving look.

Jack drags a hand down his face. “Don’t look at me like that, no, I haven’t told him, because i know what he’ll say,” he assures, Robin giving him a sad frown in reply. “Just trust me on this one Rob, he hasn’t given me any reason to feel this way, no indication that he likes me like that too, so this is all on me.”

Robins lips purse, wanting to argue but knowing he’ll get nowhere with the stubborn Irishman in front of him. So he lets it slide. “Just make sure you know you can come to me with anything, yeah? I don't want you to deal with this on your own.”

“Thanks bud,” Jack smiles slightly. They get back to the game shortly after, and Jack just hopes his fans don't notice how his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

 

He continues with his routine as normal, weeks passing by with increasing numbers of flower heads and petals coming from his mouth, even pooling on his pillow when he wakes in the morning, having had dreams of Felix during the night. He decides to look up what flower it actually is that he's coughing up, so with a flower head in his hand he dives into a pool of images of white flowers. He finds out what it is a short while later, and reading the flowers meaning makes him laugh bitterly.

‘What does the gardenia flower mean?

In Victorian times flowers were used to convey messages between people. When a person was unable to outright express their feelings of love for another, it was and still is a common practice to say it with flowers. While any type of flowering plant will do, if you want to express your love and devotion to someone but don’t want your identity to be known, the gardenia is the flower to give as a present. It signifies a secret love or an untold love.’

It fits perfectly, and Jack imagines what would happen if he gives Felix a bouquet of his gardenias, what the man would say. But he can't dwell on it, there's no way he would confess or even give Felix a reason to question the way Jack feels about him. It's just not worth the humiliation and heartache it would cause, even thinking about Felix's rejection makes his stomach roll and the feeling of the roots pressing into his lungs feel all the more real. 

He has begun to smoke more too, because what's the point in worrying about the cancer he might get from them when he's going to die anyway? It might scare other people that he's thinking this way but he knows with certainty that he's not going to get better with this one, so what's the point in trying to end his inevitable suffering by asphyxiation by speeding the process up even slightly. He's got a lot more cynical since this all began too, but if you were going to die because you couldn't stop yourself feeling a certain way what would you feel like? 

He's feeling slightly weak too, his precious life being spent for the growing of the flowers in his lungs. It's all the more reason for him to go to the coffee shop, which he is today, bundling himself up to fight against the cold that seems to be affecting him a lot more lately. He walks the familiar path with a sig hanging out of his mouth, inhaling the tobacco as he feels the petals rattle around inside of him. 

He throws away his sig before he goes inside, and pops a mint in his mouth to combat the strong smell of the tobacco that he knows must stick to him. He walks inside and approaches the counter, messing around with his hair until it looks somewhat normal while he waits for Felix. The man comes out of the back room and gives him a smile, a big bag full of coffee grinds under his arm which he puts next to the coffee machine. As he walks closer his smile falters slightly. “Are you feeling okay?” He asks.

Jack knows how he looks with the dark circles under his eyes, cheeks lacking their normal colour and his lips discoloured from the cigarettes. “Yeah, this cold just won't leave me alone,” he chuckles.

Felix's lips purse but he doesn't press further. He tries to give a smile as he says, “what do you feel like today?” 

 

A month ticks by, with Jack getting worse by the day. He talks with Robin often, whether it be to laugh or joke when he feels well enough to or to confide in him about things, talking about Felix and his fears and the nightmares that don’t want to leave him alone. He talks about Felix's smile, that power it holds to stop him dead in his tracks just to get a glimpse. His eyes, like treacherous tides that gleam and shine beautifully. Anything and everything he could (and does) gush about when it comes to the man, even as the petals tickle at his throat.

“This guy means a lot to you, doesn't he,” Robin states quietly. 

“Yeah, he's made me feel at home here since the move, just going to the coffee shop always makes me feel comfortable, the atmosphere is just inviting and he's so nice, has always been nice to me for some reason, but I’m sure he's like that with everyone.”

“Its you too, you don't notice how much people gravitate to you just because you're you, you don't try to be something you aren’t and people love that about you,” Robin smiles, his eyes soft and caring.

What did Jack do to get a friend like Robin? It hurts him that he's going to leave him behind. He hasn’t even told his family yet, because he knows they would push him to get the surgery, but he knows he got to say something soon. “What did i do to deserve you?”

“Probably something horrible,” Robin chuckles, though he’s honestly touched.

Jack laughs too, but he appreciates Robin more than he can admit, he just hopes the man realises one day.

 

He calls his family later that night, because he just can’t put it off any longer. His ma cries and sobs over the broken up audio, trying to reason with him all the while, and when that doesn't work says that she’s going to book a plane ticket. He talks her down, then promises her that he’ll fly over in a couple of weeks, because she’s as stubborn as he is and he can’t deny how much he wants to see her. His dad is in the same state as his mother, telling him he loves him, and saying he looks forward to seeing him. Jack has to say goodbye, not able to keep himself together for much longer. Once they're gone he breaks, a dam of emotions that he's kept contained for a while spilling over, tears flowing down his cheeks until he can cry no longer.

 

He wakes that morning with his bed covered in white flowers as usual, his head pounding and throat feeling like a cheese grater has been at it. He grabs his phone from the side table, opens Twitter and sends out a tweet informing his fans that he can't record that day. He just hopes he's got some in reserve that Robin could put up.

The sight of the flowers covering his bed frustrates him, and when he goes to the kitchen he finds them scattered across the floor there too. He heaves a sigh as he brews his coffee. He knows he's turning into a walking flowerbed, slowly but surely. He's coughed up enough flowers to fill a florists, probably overstock it too, the shop would be bursting with them much like he is. No matter how much he wants to he can't escape them, they always find their way to him, through his mouth or the scattered petals on his floor. He'd honestly be a happy man if he never saw another gardenia for the rest of his life.

Pouring his coffee into a mug he traipses his way back to his bed, wishing he could just stay there for the rest of his short existence.

 

He doesn't go the the shop anymore. He thought it might do him good at first, to be away from anything to do with Felix, but it's tough to keep away. He occupies himself with recording, until he can record no longer, his skin too pale and petals coming too often to continue. It’s difficult to make that last video. He plays a fan-game that had been recommended a while ago, and it’s bittersweet because its such a good game filled with so many amazing memories but he constantly has to stop, the tears coming without warning. That final goodbye is the hardest thing he’s possibly ever done, because he knows something that most of the people that will watch the episode doesn't, and it pains him the way they’re going to find out.

 

He drifts around his flat like a ghost after that, packing for his trip back home and just trying to keep himself going, scared the flowers will overtake him if he doesn't keep moving. He almost wants to go to Felix, the man is all he can think about most days, the flowers always making sure to remind him, but he doesn't trust himself to not keel over as soon as he sees him, worried that that will be the straw that breaks the camel's back, it's bad enough the way it's progressing on its own. 

 

His breathing has got worse, turning into a rattling wheeze that reverberates in his ears. The flowers must be everywhere at this point, he wouldn't be surprised if even his veins had been taken over by them. He can just imagine tiny little buds floating around in his bloodstream. 

 

Felix had been worried about Jack for a while, especially with the way he was the last time he came in. And then with him not coming in for a few weeks he decided to do some investigating. It sounds creepy, but he asked around to find out where Jack lives. He knows how that sounds, he really does, but this could be an emergency, it also might not be, but he doesn't want to take that chance.

He knocks on the door of the flat he’d been told Jack lives in, and waits a second, wringing his hands nervously as he hears the approach of footsteps. His eyes widen as he sees Jack in the doorway. The man was deathly pale, more so than normal, sickly looking, all the colour gone from his cheeks. "How did you even find me?" He asks with a furrow between his brows

"Asked around," Felix says plainly. "You look-" 

"Like shit right?" Jack chuckles despite the cheese grater feeling of the stalks against his throat. "Feel like it too." 

"What happened? You didn't come in like normal so I thought the worst, what with the cough you had." 

"Probably a virus," Jack shrugs as if this 'virus' isn't going to be the one to kill him. 

"Bullshit, you look- this isn't a virus, I know it isn't, just let me come inside and you can tell me what's really going on," Felix pleads, just wanting to get Jack sat before the man's legs give out. 

"I- I can't do that," Jack says with all the conviction his worn out body can give, bracketing the door with his body. He should have turned Felix away the moment he saw him, but he'd just missed him so much.

Felix frowns deeply. “Why? What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” Jack rushes out. “I just- don't want you to come in.”

“Jack, I’m not leaving, and i don’t wanna have this talk out here, please, I’m worried about you and i just wanna know what's going on,” Felix pleads with him.

Jacks gardenia covered heart breaks slightly at his tone and he surrenders, standing aside. Felix looks almost surprised, but walks inside before Jack can change his mind. What he finds shocks him. There are white flowers and their petals scattered across every surface, the floor covered in them. “What the fuck? What the fuck happened here?” Felix asks, almost frantic.

Jack shuts the door then sighs tiredly. “Hanahaki. I've been coughing up flowers for a few months now.”

“You’ve been- fuck Jack, how did this happen?”

“It’s an unrequited love thing, very rare, I’ll cough up flowers until i die from them,” Jack explains frankly, not having the energy to say anything else as he walks over to the couch.

“What are you waiting for? Why don't you tell this person how you feel?” Felix asks incredulously.

“I can’t,” Jack forces out, picking lint off of his shirt so he doesn't look Felix in the eye, not wanting to know what they would hold.

“Why not? Why wouldn't you? What is there to lose? I mean-“

“Its you! Okay?” Jack bursts, his eyes widening as soon as the words have left his tongue. He breaks into a coughing fit, not used to raising his voice anymore, the petals getting aggravated. He holds his throat, tears in his eyes, scared this might be the last time. Felix breaks out of his shocked stupor and pats him on the back, hoping that's enough to clear his airways. Jack hacks into his hands until a bloody red gardenia appears in his palm, the soft petals tainted, and he lets it fall onto the carpet. He gasps for breath, inhaling and exhaling shakily. 

“You okay?” Felix asks quietly, as if anything louder will make him break.

Jack nods his head, feeling tears spring to his eyes, and buries his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out.

Felix takes a spot next to him on the couch, rubbing his back in a way he hopes is comforting. “You don't need to be sorry, this is kinda flattering in a weird way, but I don’t like that i've caused this, i should really be the one saying sorry.”

Jack takes away his hands, “You don't need to apologise for not feeling the same, its fine,” he insists, raising his head and giving Felix a tight smile to try and convince him.

“I didn't say that,” Felix frowns. “I didn't tell you i don't feel the same, because i do, the second you walked in to the cafe. I've never been the way i am with you with anyone else, no customer that walks in catches my attention in the way you do. It's pretty unprofessional of me but i can't help it, and I’m glad that i found out about this because i don't know that i would've done if you would've died, I can’t- i- i would hate it.”

Jack swallows, a lump in his throat. “You have no idea what this means to me, i didn’t wanna tell you because- i didn’t wanna make you blame yourself for not feeling the same, but you do and i- i feel better than i have in months,” Jack laughs with tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Felix pulls Jack into his side. “I wish you would’ve just given me the flowers though,” he chuckles, laying his head in Jacks hair, making some of the strands wet with his falling tears.

“I never wanna see another flower again,” Jack says resolutely, resting into Felix's warmth.

“Gerald won't be happy,” Felix laughs.

“Gerald is the only exception.” 

 

~

**Author's Note:**

> And thats it! Kudos and comments are always appreciated, and come see me over on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Hopefulwriter_) or alternatively on [Tumblr](https://hopeful--writer.tumblr.com)
> 
> Hope you have an awesome day/night!


End file.
